


waiting for a 'no' that'll never come through

by singlecatastrophe



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlecatastrophe/pseuds/singlecatastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe that's why Liam's become mad with the need to fuck - because Harry's just so easy to please and always eager to please that Liam just - he can't help himself, can't stop himself from wanting it always and completely contradictorily, wanting to draw it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	waiting for a 'no' that'll never come through

**Author's Note:**

> The story features a dominant/submissive dynamic, breathplay, and choking. I don't believe the other acts present in the story requires prior warning, but please let me know if you disagree and think something else should be included here, and I will absolutely do so.
> 
> This was originally meant for a [prompt](http://badjujuboo.livejournal.com/438705.html?thread=2413489#t2413489) at the [Lirry ficathon](http://badjujuboo.livejournal.com/438705.html), i'm not sure if this fully has all the things or even the feel that anon wanted, but I'm a slow writer and also a horribly selfish one so it kind of spiraled into this. :( I don't exaggerate when I say that nothing happens but sex and also some feelings. 
> 
> This probably has horrible inaccuracies that you may need to handwave. This is also not beta'd and written while I was delirious and lacking sleep (which is actually exactly what I'm feeling right now) so please forgive any mistakes or odd turns of phrases. :(

Liam's always liked sex as much as the next lad but he'd never been _mad_ for it the way he's become ever since – well, ever since Harry. He should conduct a study, that's what he should do, interview all the people Harry's ever slept with and ask, "But no, it's normal right, to want to pass out every night with your prick still in his arse and wake up every morning with it in his mouth?"

Except Liam's fairly certain that if anyone answered an affirmative, he'd put those boxing lessons to good use and sock them in the face. 

It's just difficult, is all, to imagine Harry being this way with other people, all loose and bright-eyed as he looks up at Liam from where he's resting naked and on his knees, his bottom nestled on his heels. Harry's got long limbs and wide shoulders but he somehow manages to fold himself so he's settled in the space between Liam's sprawled legs, big hands cupping Liam's knees. He bends down so he's nosing at the inseam of Liam's trousers, playfully gnawing at it with his teeth, and Liam's hands move on their own accord to cup the back of Harry's head and run his fingers through his hair.

"You're making it hard to focus on the program, Harry," says Liam reprovingly, as though it's possible to pay attention to anything else when Harry's in the same room as him. 

Harry lifts his head and huffs out a breath, and it's ridiculous is what it is, that Harry's literally not done anything and yet his lips look like they've been bitten raw, the red of a particularly vivid shade of lipstick. Harry leans forward and buries his head against Liam's stomach instead, his hands sliding up Liam's thighs until they reach the hem of Liam's jumper. 

"You're making it hard to focus on your cock, Liam," mumbles Harry into the soft fabric, and Liam can feel the vibrations of his chest. It's enough to have his blood rush south, and Harry makes a pleased sound. 

"Clearly," says Liam drily, "my prick isn't having as difficult a time paying attention to you."

"As it very well shouldn't," says Harry, the imperious quality in his voice subverted by how very eagerly he's started to mouth at the outline of Liam's cock. "Liam. Liam, Liam, Li."

Harry's mouth is hot and wet and even without making direct contact with his prick it's turning Liam on, his hips instinctively pushing up into Harry's mouth. His fingers are still tangled in Harry's curls, and Liam uses them to tug Harry's head away in one harsh pull and feels his blood burn hot when Harry gasps, the green of his eyes disappearing into black right in front of him. 

Harry's lips have gotten redder still from where they've been rubbing against the denim of Liam's jeans, glistening from the saliva that's left a wet spot on Liam's crotch. 

"Let me," says Harry, pausing in the middle to swipe his tongue along his bottom lip. "Let me suck you off. Please."

He says it quietly but without any hesitation and while Liam loves every part of Harry, there's a special place in Liam's heart for the Harry that he's on the precipice of, a Harry that's soft and pliant and looks at Liam would make his entire world if he took his pants off and have Harry at it. As though he's the one doing Harry a favour.

"Look at you," says Liam, using the tips of his fingers to rub at Harry scalp and soothe away the sting of where Liam pulled on it and Harry leans into it. With his other hand he touches Harry mouth, outlines the perfect bow of it. "You really want to, don't you?"

Harry closes his eyes and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip before breathing out a, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Liam's chest feels tight. 

"Why don't you go turn the telly off, then," he suggests, letting go of Harry. "Don't get up, though."

For a moment Harry looks a delightful combination of confused and turned on, his big eyes blinking slowly as his mouth turns down. Liam can tell when he gets it though, because everything about Harry suddenly gets even softer still, his gaze turning to the floor and the lines of his body relaxing. "I can do that," he says quietly.

"You _will_ do that," corrects Liam. 

"Yeah," agrees Harry, and it doesn't take anything else before Harry's pivoting on his knees and placing his palms on the ground, crawling towards the television. 

With every bit of progress he makes, the movement of his legs gives Liam maddening glimpses of Harry's arsehole. Just flashes of it, small and pink and so goddamn tight that Liam has to press down on the bulge of his cock to stave himself, already painfully hard from thinking about the number of times he's fucked into that, and the countless times he's going to do it again. Perhaps before the night is out, even.

Harry's eyes stay trained on the ground when he starts his way back after he turns the television off. He comes to a stop at Liam's feet settles his weight on his folded legs. He doesn't say anything, just stares at Liam expectantly as he waits with his hands clasped together loosely on his lap. 

Liam takes his time unbuttoning his fly and pulling down the zip, feeling a heady rush as he watches Harry trace the movement of Liam's hands with his eyes. Harry bites his lower lip when Liam reaches into his pants and pulls out his prick, his hands clenching into fists.

"Go on, then," says Liam, and Harry's cheeks dimple into a smile. 

"Thank you," he says, rubbing his cheek against Liam's knee. The two words are full of snark, but Liam doesn't mind because soon Harry's leaning forward, taking in the head of Liam's cock into his mouth.

Harry's good at giving head, but what makes Liam take a mental step back in awe is the level with which Harry enjoys it, too. He sucks at the tip, moving his tongue in languid circles, playing with the foreskin. Liam's head drops back to rest on the sofa, content for now to let Harry lap at the precum and lick along the veins, movements almost gentle.

The only noises in the flat for the next little while is the sound of Harry blowing him, the suction of his mouth around Liam's cock and his harsh, laboured breathing as he inhales deeply through his nose. It puts Liam on edge, his skin feeling tight where it's stretched over his flesh, and Harry's careful attention stops being enough. He tugs at one of Harry's curls and Harry let's Liam's slick cock drop out of his mouth with a 'plop,' a thin string of spit still connecting it to Harry's swollen lips.

"Don't stop," says Liam and angles Harry's head back down until it's flush against Liam's crotch. Liam can feel every hot exhale, can feel where he's digging into Harry cheek. "Don't stop, just take me deeper."

And Harry just - does. There's no second guessing, doesn't even lift his head for a moment. He just opens up and takes him in until Liam's hitting the back of his mouth, and down, the muscles of Harry's throat relaxed but clinging to the entire length of him. He keeps going until his nose is pressing up against Liam, sucking sloppily as he tries to get used to the position. 

Liam's abs clenches when he looks down and sees nothing but Harry's messy hair between his legs, the smooth expanse of his bare shoulders moving as he bobs his head. 

"Christ," mutters Liam as Harry's throat tenses around him. "You're so into this, how are you-" 

Harry makes a noise that's probably an assent, the vibration of his vocal chords traveling right up Liam's prick. He makes an aborted movement as though he's about to look up at Liam, his grip on Liam's knees tightening to use as leverage; Liam's hand, which had been loosely entwined in Harry's hair, exert a little pressure so Harry stays down instead. 

Harry chokes a little, not expecting it, breath going erratic before he regains control of himself. Once he does, however, he moans, hand sliding down Liam's leg to wrap around his own cock. 

"You're so, so good for me," says Liam, and Harry's shoulders jerk again. Maybe, thinks Liam, Harry wants to nod or smile but _can't_ because Liam won't let him. "So good."

Liam wonders if Harry can breathe, if his face has gone all red because his whole body is shaking. He doesn't seem to be having a negative response, however, isn't showing any signs of pulling away. He just keeps sucking, hollows his cheeks and strokes Liam's dick with his tongue. 

When he feels himself coming close too fast, Liam tugs on Harry's hair hard enough so that Harry pulls back with a gasp, Liam's prick spilling out of his mouth. He tucks himself away, finding more satisfaction in seeing Harry's red eyes and the way he's taking in air harshly through his mouth; the way he's painfully hard, his dick red and leaking and pressed in an angle across his stomach.

"Do you like it when I'm like this with you?" asks Liam, fingers gentle on Harry's chin, his lips. "Do you like it when I decide for you to breathe?"

Harry's face, already flushed from the exertion goes darker still, creeping down his neck and chest. 

"I asked you a question, Harry," says Liam and his grip tightens on Harry's jaw, jerking him forward. His whole body topples onto Liam. 

"Yes," gasps Harry and Liam wants to kiss him. "Yeah, yes, ye-"

Liam wants to kiss him and so he does, hauls Harry up until he's licking the trace of his own spunk off of Harry's blood red mouth. Harry's kneeling on the sofa, Liam's thighs enclosed in the space between Harry's legs and Harry has to hunch down do keep his mouth locked into Liam's, his hands grabbing desperately at Liam's face. He whines when Liam cups his arse and squeezes, starts to rub against Liam, their cocks aligned and rutting into each other.

Harry's always been sensitive, so easy to get off that Liam barely even has to try. Maybe that's why Liam's become mad with the need to fuck - because Harry's just so easy to please and always eager to please that Liam just - he can't help himself, can't stop himself from wanting it always and completely contradictorily, wanting to draw it out. 

Liam pulls away and Harry makes a keening noise. 

"Liam," he says desperately, lips parted and pupils blown wide. 

Liam shakes his head, places his hands on Harry's hips and says, "Stop."

Immediately Harry does, his hands leaving Liam's cheeks to grip his shoulders. " _Liam_ ," he repeats, his cock is red and heavy and flush against his stomach, messy white strings drooling out of his cock and he's breathing harsh from the effort of keeping himself still.

Liam curls his fingers behind Harry's ear, thumbing the curve of his cheekbone. "You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?" asks Liam wondrously.

Harry's brow's draw together, a little wrinkle appearing between them, his chest heaving. 

"You don't even have to ask," says Harry. 

"And if I do?"

Harry doesn't smile or lower his gaze or – or do anything, really. He just keeps looking at Liam with his big eyes. "Then the answer's-" he breaks off when one of Liam's hands reaches for his prick. "Oh, _oh_ , Li-"

He's not playing fair and he knows it, dragging his thumb along the length of Harry, right above the thickest, protruding vein all the way to the head before flicking his thumbnail across the slit. Harry shouts out, his body rocking into Liam even as his head falls back, the lines of his neck gleaming with sweat. 

"Tell me," whispers Liam, palming at Harry's hard cock. "Tell me what you'd do if I asked."

"I'll say yes," says Harry, squeezing his eyes shut as Liam's fingers move to stroke at Harry's sac, gently pressing on the soft skin at the back. "I'll always say yes."

"You will, won't you?" says Liam, admiring how dark Harry's lashes are against his skin and how little beads of perspiration that has started to gather around his hairline. "Sometimes i can't believe my luck, you know," he continues, squeezing Harry's balls just enough to have Harry whine. "I've got Harry Styles on my lap, my hands on his dick, and he wants me to fuck him until he screams."

"Yeah," says Harry, voice rough like gravel as he grinds into Liam's palm. His muscles are starting to tense. "Fuck me 'til I scream, Li – I want – Liam, I'm gonna-"

"No you're not," says Liam, and Harry whines, eyes wide and desperate. Liam removes his hand from Harry's prick and instead places the middle and index fingers against Harry's lips. "Wet my fingers, darling, there you are."

Harry takes him in eagerly, sucks on his fingers with such abandon that it makes the most obscene sounds. He pauses for a second to part his lips, let's the saliva gather there before using his tongue to lather Liam with it, focusing on one finger at a time. Liam loves how Harry calms down almost immediately when he has something filling his mouth. His eyes are closed and his lips are full, red and puckered, his face relaxed as he plays with Liam's fingers, forgetting his desperation from just moments earlier. 

Or, thinks Liam, the desire to please Liam overwhelms Harry's own need to come, which would be in line with everything that's happened between them in the last few months. It makes Liam's mouth suddenly feel paper dry, makes his softening prick fill up again. 

"Do you like doing this?" asks Liam, his free hand squeezing at Harry's bum. "Almost as good as sucking cock?" 

Harry moans around Liam's fingers, takes them in even further until Harry's upper lip is resting on the curve of Liam's knuckles. Liam's at a dangerous place right now, the tips of his fingers grazing at the soft, smooth muscle at the back of Harry's mouth, and the slightest force from his part could have Harry choking on it. 

It's a rush, is what it is, the realization of the amount of trust Harry's put in him. Liam's still figuring out the dynamics of their relationship, something terrifying and thrilling in equal turns and nothing like what he's ever had before – and it's still humbling every time he thinks about how if he rammed his fingers into Harry's throat right now, Harry would just _take it_. He'd take it because that's what Liam wants and also because he trusts that Liam wouldn't do it just to take the piss, that it'd be because Harry's deserved it, or because Liam genuinely thought it would be what Harry would want. 

The thought makes Liam's blood burn even hotter, from both arousal and unparalleled levels of affection. Liam wants to lock Harry up somewhere safe, somewhere where his undeserved faith in others won't come back to hurt him. He'll be as good to Harry as Harry'll ever need because Liam doesn't have enough faith in anyone else in the world to take care of Harry the way Liam's promised to himself that he will, doesn't trust that they won't fuck up. 

Because this - Liam's smart enough to see that it's something precious. 

"That's enough," says Liam, voice rough. Harry flickers his eyes open as he slowly slides his mouth off, and Liam's fingers feel cool and dripping wet. Harry's gaze is a little out of focus, and Liam takes a moment to kiss him, soft on his lips. Harry's too dazed to respond more than perfunctorily, and doesn't resist when Liam moves away from his mouth and guides his head to rest in the crook of Liam's neck. 

Once Harry's settled, Liam trails his hand down Harry's neck and back until he reaches Harry's bottom. He palms at one cheek, squeezing and petting until Harry's making muffled sounds against Liam's chin, shifting in his lap. 

"I want you to do something for me, Harry," says Liam, as he parts Harry's arse with one hand and uses the still slick fingers of his other one to trace at Harry's warm hole. Harry tries to edge away, the feeling of Liam's fingers too cold, but as soon as Liam says, "Stay still," he stops. 

"Now," says Liam, slipping just the tip of his middle finger in. He knows that spit's never an acceptable substitute for proper lubrication, but it's not like he's going to fuck Harry right now with his cock, anyway. "I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you tonight."

The first finger slides in easily enough, and Harry answer comes out as a gasp, "Everything," he says breathlessly. "Anything you want, Li-"

"A bit more specific, Harry," admonishes Liam, pumping in and out of Harry in slow thrusts. He wonders if it was a mistake to not just start off with two right away, given how easily Harry adapts himself around the one. 

"I don't know," says Harry distractedly. His head is still hidden in Liam's shoulders, and every movement of Harry's hips has him rocking back against Liam's fingers or has his prick rutting up against Liam's stomach. "Whatever you wa–"

"What if I want you tied up on the bed," cuts in Liam, adding the second finger in. Harry keens a little, puffs of air hot as they hit Liam's jaw, and Liam's gentle as he twists them inside Harry. "And I fuck you with a vibrator again and again for hours until you're coming dry?"

Harry's breaths get shallower with each of Liam's words. "Yes," he says, voice croaking. 

"What if for a whole day the only thing I want you to put in your mouth is my cock?" 

The way Harry moans at that is obscene, and Liam drinks it up like it's water from a holy well.

"Yes," whispers Harry, and Liam bends his fingers a bit, feels them brush against Harry's prostate. "Yes, ah, _Liam_ -"

"Too dry?" asks Liam sympathetically, withdrawing his hand from the heat of Harry's arse. He carefully extracts Harry's face from his neck from where Harry's nosing at his jaw. Harry looks utterly wrecked, his hair a mess and eyes bright, lips bitten raw.

Liam brings his hand up to Harry's mouth again and says, "Slick them up again, will you?"

Harry's shaking as he takes Liam's fingers into his mouth, but there's no second thought, and Liam marvels at how Harry doesn't seem to care about where the fingers just were, sucking on them just as wetly as before. This time Liam doesn't keep them in there for too long, however. He's back in the tight heat of Harry's arse soon enough, occasionally drawing out a bit to circle at the rim, but mostly stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves inside Harry, making him writhe in Liam's lap. 

"Liam," says Harry, clawing at Liam's arms, cock frantically rubbing off against him. "I'm-"

"Not yet," says Liam, and the sound that rips out of Harry is wretched, like a sob. "Don't come yet, Harry, for me."

"I can't-"

"Yes you can."

Liam sees Harry try, try and force his hips to still or at least slow down, screwing up his face in concentration and trying to take in deep, steady breaths. 

He fails, of course, because Liam's fingers are still crooked inside of him. Harry's eyes snap open and he looks a perfect mix of aroused and distressed, cracks appearing in his gravelly voice as he says, "I - I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry-"

"Don't be sorry," says Liam, even as he twists his fingers, runs his other hand absently over Harry's chest, his sensitive nipples. "Just hold on for a little bit more."

Harry's putting in such an effort that Liam feels an odd sense of pride wash over him, warm under his skin. This is too impromptu to really draw Harry out, and when they have time Liam thinks he wants to tie something around the base of Harry's cock, tighten and loosen it depending on how close to the edge he wants Harry to feel. He wants to find out more about what Harry loves done to his prick and what he hates, find out what he loves for Liam's sake even if otherwise he'd hate it. 

A broken sort of noise escapes Harry right then and Liam frowns. 

"You really can't do it?" he asks, infusing just the right amount of disappointment in his voice.

"I'm sorry," repeats Harry as an answer, burying his face against Liam's neck. Liam's not sure if the wetness he feels is sweat or if Harry's actually tearing up from the exertion of trying to listen to Liam. "I'm trying to - but I - I actually _can't_ -"

He's riding Liam's fingers with such abandon that Liam's certain it'd look ridiculous if he wasn't seconds away from coming in his pants from just the sight alone. He can't see clearly over Harry's shoulder, but he can make out the swell of Harry's bottom and see where his hands disappears from view. 

Liam's imagination is enough for the rest, though it would be a valid investment to install mirrors here, just so he can appreciate everything fully. 

He feels Harry's back muscles start to tense right then, tightening around Liam's fingers. "Liam," says Harry, still grinding into the soft cotton of Liam's jumper, making a mess all over it. "Oh, I can't-"

Harry sounds wrecked, muffled against Liam's neck, and Liam hadn't expected him to be able to hold out, not really, not with Liam rubbing up against his prostate every other thrust. 

"It's okay," says Liam, running his free hand through Harry's hair. "It's all right if you really can't."

"I'm sorry," says Harry again helplessly. 

"You can come," says Liam. "It's all right, Harry, come for me-"

"Oh," says Harry, and all of him seems to curl in close around Liam right then, his legs on either side of Liam's thighs and his arms around Liam's shoulders tightening. Liam hears Harry whisper his name one last time before he comes hard enough that Liam feels the force of it through his clothes, landing on his chest. 

Liam slips his fingers out, runs a hand gently down Harry's back once Harry collapses on top of him, taking frequent, shallow breaths. 

"So good," says Liam. "I could get off just from watching you, God."

Harry starts kissing his jaw, soft, lazy little bites against the lines of Liam's face. 

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," says Harry, branding each word onto Liam's skin. "Next time - next time will be better, Liam, promise."

Liam hums a bit, tilting his head back to give him better access. Harry's nosing at his neck and carefully biting a trail down to his collarbones. Liam understands why Harry's saying what he is but the fact is that Liam's not truly disappointed, not when Harry did exactly what Liam expected him to, _wanted_ him to.

"Next time, hmm?"

"What d'you want, Li?" asks Harry, leaning back to look at Liam.

"What can you give me?" asks Liam, gaze trained on Harry's eyes and mouth, both soft from his smile. His hair's still a tangled mess, and there's sweat drying on his forehead and come drying on his stomach, a splatter against the etched ink, and somehow he still manages to be the most beautiful thing Liam's ever seen.

Harry kisses down his chest in lieu of an answer, the pressure of his lips just a wisp through the layers Liam has on, edging away from Liam's up and slowly lowering himself to the ground. He continues down Liam's sternum until he reaches Liam's cock and pulls it out, half-hard from where Harry'd been rutting against it just moments earlier. He treats it just the same as he had the rest of Liam, however, with a careful kisses along the length, from the base to the head, before pulling away completely. 

And there Harry is, folded on his knees by Liam's feet and staring up at him expectantly, exactly how they'd started the whole thing. Liam thinks, _oh_ , and thinks about pushing Harry to his back and fucking him right now.

"What d'you want from me?" asks Harry again. 

This time Liam answers a little differently, "What will you do for me?" he asks. 

"Everything," says Harry. "All of it."

"Will you give me your mouth?"

"You don't have to ask these things," says Harry, eyebrows drawing together as he echoes his earlier words, tone frustrated. "Whatever you say, I'll do."

Liam ignores him. 

"What about your throat, then?" He thinks about what Harry said, about what Liam wants from him, and right now what he wants is for Harry to show that Liam's the most important thing - person or otherwise - in Harry's life. "Your voice? Will you give me your voice, Harry, even though you have to sing tomorrow?"

Harry's eyes widen, and though he sounds certain, he still says, "Yes."

Again, he feels that rush. Because Liam knows, knows that if he wanted to he could just order it and Harry would submit. But there's something so completely different and a thousand times more dizzying when he makes Harry choose to give him things, when Liam only plants the idea and Harry too willingly does the rest. 

And this – this is something new. Liam's never done anything that would have lasting effects outside the bedroom, weave into their daily lives in such a pervasive way. 

Still, he gently says, "Are you sure? Because I'm not going to stop until I have all of it."

Harry licks his lips. 

"Yeah," he says, and this time he sounds sure, nodding his head along. "Yeah, Li, do it. Please. Whatever you're planning just. I'm in."

"So, so good for me," murmurs Liam, and it's ridiculous in the loveliest way that those words are all Harry needs to flush in contentment. "I want to fuck your mouth until you can't speak."

Already Harry's prick's stirring in interest, and he moves back a bit so Liam can get up from the sofa. Liam runs his fingers through Harry's hair until his hand is cradling the back of Harry's skull, and Harry looks small when he stares up at Liam.

And it's silly because Harry's not really done anything except _look_ , but fuck if Liam isn't hit with how much he loves this boy, and how much he's going to enjoy ruining him, though he's plenty wrecked already.

"Pull my trousers down," he says, and Harry hurriedly moves to do so, tugging at Liam's jeans and the boxers underneath so that his cock is free, the hem of the trousers stopping a tick above his knees. Liam takes his jumper off and throws it onto the couch, lets the cool air touch the skin of his bare arms.

"Hands behind your head," he orders, and the clarity with which Liam knows how he wants Harry is astonishing, as is the utmost confidence he has that Harry will follow through. Liam removes his own hands long enough for Harry to interlock his fingers behind his head before placing it back down again, thumb grazing against Harry's knuckles. 

"Now open your mouth," directs Liam and Harry's lips part on command, his tongue momentarily peeking out. "This is what you're going to do, Harry," says Liam, using his free hand to angle his cock so the head is resting on Harry's bottom lip. 

"You're going to stay perfectly still," says Liam, moving his dick so that it runs along the line of Harry's lip, smearing it. "And you're not going to suck or lick or do anything other than be a hole for me."

And then he pushes forward, not giving Harry an opportunity to answer before he's shoving his way in. Harry's body curls away automatically in response, but Liam keeps his head in place as he thrusts. 

Liam's not being particularly forceful, but Harry still chokes every time the head of Liam's cock hits the back of his mouth, and the sensation is worlds different than when Harry had deepthroated him before. This isn't a gradual slide with Harry and his muscles relaxed, where every part of Harry wanted Liam to go in as far as possible. No, this time Liam can _feel_ that Harry's body sees this as an intrusion, no matter how much Harry's mind disagrees.

"I'm not even trying yet," admonishes Liam when Harry's shoulders lock up again after what was perhaps a particularly harsh snap of Liam's hips. Harry squeezes his eyes shut and tries to loosen himself up while keeping his teeth covered with his lips. 

And God, Liam's dick feels so slick as he slides in and out of Harry, Harry's mouth gets wetter every time his throat constricts and Liam can feel Harry's hot, warm exhales hit his cock in the brief moments he pulls out.

Harry's mouth is Liam's favourite place to be, whether it's his prick or his tongue or his fingers that are making themselves home there. Similar to Harry himself, it's warm and soft and drives Liam absolutely insane in the way it tries to take in everything Liam's pushing forward, even when it's unbearable. 

Abruptly Liam stops, and Harry jerks forward, expecting the momentum to continue, for the force of Liam's cock to push him back. Liam doesn't, and instead grabs Harry's jaw and says, "Say my name."

Harry blinks rapidly, lips red and hands still clasped behind his head, chest heaving. "Li - Liam," he croaks out, voice maddeningly raspy.

"Still can talk, then," observes Liam, and then he starts again, one hand keeping Harry's head in place while the other holds his chin down, keeping his mouth open.

Liam's rougher this time, and Harry sputters with every one of Liam's thrust. Normally Harry adapts to whatever their trying, whatever limits are placed on him. Liam's never fucked his mouth so roughly before, though, never with such a hefty intention.

"You're so good at this, aren't you?" says Liam. "At doing what I want," he clarifies. "How'd I get so lucky? Find a fit, impossible boy who'll listen to whatever I say?" 

Harry's eyes have been wet for some time now from the exertion of it, little droplets clinging to his eyelashes, the occasional tear trailing down his cheek when he can blink them away. At Liam's words though his lashes flutter, in the way that he does when he's turned on.

A glance down shows that Harry's cock is half-hard, and Liam marvels once more at how easy it is to get him going, to please him. 

"You will though, won't you?" continues Liam, proud that he's managing this level of coherency when his prick's sliding back and forth along Harry's tongue. "Even though you jaw's hurting and your knees are locking up and your neck must feel something awful - you want me to keep going, don't you?"

Harry makes a distressed noise, coming out a garbled mess past his full mouth, but it's no different than the sounds he's been making for as long as Liam's been fucking into him. This time when Liam pulls away, Harry gasps out, his whole body curling in on itself. Each of his breaths are shallow and have a whistle like quality to it, like the sir is being forced through a narrow space.

Which, thinks Liam as he wraps his fingers around his prick and starts pumping it, is essentially what's happening. 

There's saliva all over Harry's chin and his lips rubbed raw. "Say my name," says Liam again, and Harry vigorously shakes his head no. " _Harry_ ," he says sharply. 

Eye becoming wide, Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out but hacking cough a moment later, his torso shaking with it. 

Liam actually can't believe it. 

"Oh my God, Harry." Harry looks up and he appears completely, utterly spent. "You're - you're something else, aren't you?" says Liam, affection bleeding into his voice because Liam just fucked Harry mute and Harry _let him_ , and that's. That's something big. "The most amazing thing I've ever had, did I ever tell you that?"

Harry shakes his head again. 

"You are, though," says Liam. "Who'd ever do for me what you would? What you just did?"

Harry just keeps shaking his head though, licking his lips and letting out high pitched exhales every time he opens his mouth.

Liam's heart is racing and he thinks he might crack from the effort of keeping himself still. Somehow though, his voice comes out gentle as he says, "I'm gonna come soon, Harry. Do you think you can finish me off?"

Liam barely has time to remove his hands before Harry takes him in again. He sucks long and hard, his shaking fingers pressing down behind Liam's balls and causing a sharp, white heat to shoot through Liam's body as he shoots out into Harry's mouth. Harry swallows it all, his Adam's apple moving like he's gulping down water. 

That seems to be Harry's limit, however, because he falls onto his bottom right after, as through invisible strings were holding him up had finally been cut. Liam buttons up his jeans before he joins Harry on the ground, pulling the dead weight of Harry's body against his own and leaning back against the sofa. 

"C'mere," says Liam, and Harry lets him arrange their positions, so Harry's folded up against Liam's side and his arms are thrown around Liam's waist, forehead resting on Liam's shoulder. "So, so good," he murmurs into Harry's hair. "I'm going to take such good care of you, Harry Styles." 

Harry moves a bit, shifts a little closer and buries his face into Liam's neck.

"I'm not going to stop kissing you until your voice gets better," he promises, thinking about pressing his lips against Harry's throat and then the rest of him too, down the long line of his body until he finishes at the tips of his ten toes. "When we're in the bath and I'm washing your hair, when I'm making breakfast for you every day for the next week, when we're in rehearsals and Zayn's making horrid comments about how absolutely besotted I am with you-"

Burrowing even closer to Liam, Harry makes a disagreeing sort of sound; Liam's not fooled though, he can feel how Harry's mouth is stretched into a smile again his neck, the way he is when he's embarrassed and pleased and trying not to give away how much he loves it. 

So Liam doesn't stop, keeps telling Harry about all the things they're going to do, all the places he's going to kiss Harry's body and snog him on the streets until Harry regains full control of himself, gets enough of a hold of his breath to open his mouth in silent laughter. 

Liam can talk for a long time, almost as good as Louis in filling the silence with mindless chatter. Harry seems to enjoy this though, because eventually he moves back a bit so he's leaning against the sofa instead of Liam, looking at him with an exhausted, almost helpless smile on his face. 

It makes Liam want to wrap him up and hold him close, and when he sees Harry shiver, limbs all folded tightly together, wrapping him up seems like the perfect thing to do. 

"And you're gonna catch a cold if we stay here longer," finishes Liam, "though I guess that'd be a proper excuse for your voice, yeah?" Harry rolls his eyes and Liam grins at him, pushing Harry's damp fringe out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear. "Let's get us to the bath before heading to bed, all right?"

Harry looks tired to his bones, muscles relaxed and eyes drowsy and bruised. He can just drift off to sleep right here, Liam knows, and curl up on the carpet and deal with the consequences of it tomorrow. 

But Liam doesn't want him to have to deal with it tomorrow, the aching limbs and sore muscles that'll make Harry grumpy and upset. Liam forces himself to his feet and interlocks both his hands with Harry's, fingers twining together. 

Just because Harry _can_ call asleep here doesn't mean that he will. "C'mon, Harry," says Liam, gently tugging on their joined hands. "Are you going to get up for me?" 

And of course, for Liam, Harry does.


End file.
